In a World of Darkness
by Vienna Warren
Summary: This a is a request for MysteryMadchen! Thanks love! See, y'all, I don't bite! Anyway, this has blind!Sam, protective!John and protective!hurt!Dean so enjoy if you want :D R&R hehe!
1. Chapter 1

"Brace yourselves. He'll be here. I can feel it." John Winchester advised his boys, bringing the gun closer to his face. Dean and Sam trailed behind him, eyes alert. They followed a few steps behind him, glancing around the warehouse. The demon could be anywhere. Lurking around the ancient-looking boxes, hiding in the darkness of the shadows…

Sam swallowed nervously, doing a once-over on the place. Anywhere, it could be anywhere. God, this whole thing was so nerve-racking. Dean turned around.

"Sam, you okay? You look kinda pale." he noted, stopping for a moment.

"Nah, I'm fine. Just… nothing."

Dean doesn't look very reassured, but he faced forward and continued to walk. A moment of silence passed. The only noise heard was Sam's quiet breathing. His brother cleared his throat.

"Dad. You sure he's here?" Dean hesitantly questioned. John nodded and kept moving forward, only occasionally glancing around. After another ten minutes of exploring the warehouse, Dean stopped.

"Dad."

John Winchester didn't stop. He kept walking, gun at the ready. Dean stepped forward, hand on John's shoulder. He spun his father around to look at him. That's when he realised.

"Sam… Sam! It's not him! That's not Dad!" Dean said, voice rising.

Sam stopped. "What? Of course it is." John nodded.

"Yeah, don't argue with me. Let's keep moving." Before he could turn around, Dean grabbed him forcibly and shoved him into the nearest wall.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, rushing next to his brother.

"You listen to me. You. Are. Not. My. Dad. Now, I want you to tell me just who the hell you are before I send you back to where you came from." Dean growled, voice low. John rolled his eyes.

"Obviously you don't know who you're messing with."

With a flick of his hand, Dean's body went airborne, flying across the room like a rag doll. He smashed into some boxes and Sam heard a sickening _smack_as Dean's head made contact with something metal. Sam jumped back, aghast. "DEAN!" he yelled, running over to help his brother.

He was crumpled on the floor, a nasty cut on his forehead. A stream of blood trickled down his face. Sam gulped. The demon strolled toward them both. Sam turned towards him.

"Get away from him."

It smirked.

"You are so cute. Really, sticking up for you brother like that."

Sam shakily reached for his gun. The demon shook its head.

"Ah, I wouldn't do that. You shoot me, you're shooting your dad as well. But then again, go ahead. Who care about him?"

Dean groaned and turned a light shade of green. Sam's hand trembled.

"What do you want?" he asked, trying to sound brave.

"Oh, Sammy." John sneered. "I just want to torture you to no end." He laughed.

"Please. Leave Dean and Dad alone. I'll do anything. What do you want, really?"

The demon scratched its head, pretending to think.

"What? My life, my soul?"

A pause.

"Your sight."

Sam blinked in confusion. "My _sight_? You can do that?"

"Haven't you ever seen The Little Mermaid? If Ursula can take her voice, I can take your sense of sight. Deal or no deal."

"Sammy." Dean croaked. "Don't do it. It's not—" he gagged, almost getting sick. "worth it."

"I accept. Now get the hell out of my dad."

John grinned. "I knew you'd see some sense. Oh, excuse the pun, Sammy."

"Don't call me Sammy." he snarled.

With a cloud of black smoke, the demon exited traditionally through John's mouth. The brothers' father collapsed to the floor with them, choking and coughing. In an instant, Sam's world dissolved to black.

John recovered and gripped Sam tight. "Sam? Look at me!"

Sam Winchester blinked and stared straight ahead. "I can't. I can't see."

"SAM! Yes, yes you can! I know you can. Look at me." John experimentally waved his hands in front of his son's face. He didn't even flinch.

"Dad, we have to take care of Dean. Let's go."

Sam unsteadily stood up, only to sway and pass out on the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Hey everybody, chapter two is here! :) And btw, I'm having some SERIOUS computer issues, so if it says I have like eight new chapters, what the computer is ACTUALLY telling you is that I've downloaded chapter two, eight times -_-' Anyway, continuing onward with the request :P Thanks to y'all that commented or favourited or whatever. It was nice :3 So here ya go! R&R

CHAPTER TWO:

Dean woke with a start. He had had this awful nightmare; Sam had given up his sight for him and John. The oldest brother grinned, knowing this wasn't true; it couldn't be. But as he sat up, a sharp pain dragged him back down. A moan escaped his lips as his hand came up to meet his forehead. Good God almighty, what had happened?

He closed his eyes and smiled. Probably a late night out, a couple chicks, and _more _than a couple drinks. It'd probably been a crazy one at that. Eyes still closed, he reached out and felt the other side of the bed, His fingers trailed an arm. A hairy arm. What the-

It was Sam. He wasn't sleeping with a girl, he was in bed with his _brother_. Opening his eyes, he blinked, confused. Then John walked into the room.

"Dean?" he said softly, crouching next to Dean's side of the bed. His son quickly sat up. Almost childlike, he rubbed his eyes which were still swollen from sleep.

"Mmhhmm? Why am I sleeping with Sammy?" he groaned, hand clamped over his damp forehead. "Are we sick?"

"No. Well, you hit your head pretty hard. I stitched it up last night. Sam... uh... listen Dean... Sam's..."

"What?" the older brother inquired, now both alert and alarmed. "What's wrong with Sammy?"

John hesitated. "Er, Sam..."

"God, just tell me!" Dean practically shouted, immediately hushed by John.

"You'll wake him! He's blind, Dean."

"What?"

"He's blind, he can't see." John explained, mentally and physically exhausted. He hadn't slept all night because it was all his fault. All his fault that Sam was-

"Blind?" Dean finished John's thought. Dean buried his face in his large hands as it all came back. The demon, John's possession, Sam's voice declaring that he'd gladly give up his sight for . Family always ruins things, doesn't it?

"Sam, Sam..." the oldest Winchester brother repeated his name in a small voice. Hearing his name, Sam groggily sat up in bed as well. He yawned, opened his eyes and inhaled quickly.

"Dean, where are you? I can't, I just can't-"

Dean grabbed Sam's arm protectively. "I'm here, Sammy."

Sam exhales calmly. After a few seconds, he swings his legs over the side of the bed.

"Better get some breakfast, there's lots of cases we need to get started on." He stood up uncertainly. It's apparent he doesn't want to talk about the obvious.

"Oh. Er, you're hungry?" Dean jumped to his feet in the blink of an eye and was at Sam's side. John quietly exited the room, knowing that his eldest had everything under control. Moments later, Dean heard the apartment door slam.

As if they'd been doing that for years, Dean led his younger brother to the kitchen and sat him down on the couch.

"Okay, are you ready for the world's most vast list of breakfast choices?" he joked, trying to lighten the mood. Sam forced a laugh. "Sure, go ahead."

"We have... potato chips, gummy bears, eggs, milk, chocolate syrup, and, uh, do you happen to like Bobby's pot roast?"

Sam smiled as if nothing was wrong. "I guess I'll have to do the pot roast and some milk. You gonna eat anything?"

"Hell yeah, I'm chowin' on gummy bears, man. That's where it's at." Dean poured a mountain of gummy bears in a chipped bowl and heated up the pot roast in the microwave. The aroma of cooked beef wafted through the air.

"Smells good." Sam commented. He felt the couch sink a little as Dean sat down next to him.

"Hey, where's Dad?" Dean's brother questioned, mouth full of pot roast. Dean didn't want to tell Sam that John had just left the building to God knows where.

"Uh, on a hunt? I think..." he managed not to choke on the twenty gummy bears lodged in his mouth.

"Damn!" Sam cursed, his hand now in his breakfast; it has missed the spoon and dived right into the bowl instead.

"Here, I'll grab a napkin!" Dean hurriedly suggested, getting up. His brother let out a sigh.

"Thanks." Sam said as the napkin was placed in his hand. And they sit there together for a few minutes. Savouring the silence and wishing there was a way out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Hey y'all! ^_^ I'm not sure how many more chapters I'll have, but I hope you're enjoying them! I've had a couple people ask how old they were (sorry for the confusion) but it was MEANT to take place during the Season One finale, like "Devil's Trap", was it? Okay, so R&R 3 Thanks! Oh, and sorry this one's so short, next one will be longer! :P

CHAPTER THREE

A couple days had gone by since the incident, and neither brother was willing to talk about what happened. No matter how much Sam wanted to breakdown and just look at Dean, one more time. He just wanted to see his face. How could a person begin to forget what their _brother _looks like?

Dean had different feelings of course, since he was not the blind brother, but all the same, he wanted the old Sam back. He wished he could just scold Sam and not witness any feeling of guilt. How could Sam torture him in this way? He was so helpless, so _pitiful_. Almost like a child.

He shook his head, trying to shake all the emotions. One thing was for sure, he was _not _going to make this a chick-flick moment.

"Dean?" Sam's voice called from the living room. His brother obediently jumped up off the bed he was "resting his eyes" in, expecting the worst.

When he arrived in the room, he exhaled in relief. Sam was fine, stretched out on the tiny couch, legs dangling off the side.

"Uh, Dean?"

"Yeah, I'm right here."  
Upon hearing this, Sam quickly scrambled into a sitting position. "Oh, hey." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Um, hey."

"So, I was just wondering if we were gonna go work on a case today." he suggested, as if it was the most normal thing in the word. Dean's jaw dropped.

"Well, hang on a sec, are you... are you ready-" he started.

"Dean, I'm ready." Sam answered dismissively. Dean sat down next to him, and tapped his shoulder, signifying his presence.

"You're sure?"

"Uh huh. Besides, if Dad's out on a hunt, then I think we should be too."

Dean thought for a second. "Well, alright. So, there's these murders up in Georgia. I'm not quite sure how they're related."

"'Kay. Gotcha. Let's leave now." Sam decided, getting up.

"Now?"

"Now."

"Okay, then."

And without another word, both brothers got up to pack, Dean leading Sam to their room. Sam thought he heard some sort of sniffle, but knew better than to think his older brother was crying.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Okay, so, tell me if y'all get sick of this story xD I'm having fun with it, hope y'all are too. To everyone who favourited, commented, or anything like that, you ROCK. R&R forever, peace out!

CHAPTER FOUR

"This way, Sam." Dean led his younger brother to their '64 Chevy Impala. He easily through open the passenger side door, and Sam somewhat ungracefully fell in.

As Dean revved the engine, Sam groped around the glove department and snatched a random record.

"Is this by any chance, Metallica?" he asked, secretly hoping it was.

"Ah, no. But this one is." Dean replaced the album his brother was holding with a different one.

"Perfect. You mind if we listen to this?"

"Is that a trick question? Blast it full volume!" Dean laughed, pulling out of the motel lot.

Sam Winchester had no problem finding the volume knob, as it stuck out quite obviously. Just as the opening riff to "Enter Sandman" was playing, Dean grabbed a couple sheets of papers and began to read them aloud.

"Okay, so Lisa Thorton, age 65. Apparently, she died of... a "medical mystery". What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Sam looked thoughtful. "Hmm... could be a lot of things. Haunting, witches, well, anything really."

"Ugh. I hate me some witches." Dean informed him, turning onto the highway. Sam nodded. "There's a reason 'witch' rhymes with 'bitch'." He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

_"Jess, I'm so so sorry." Sam sobbed over Jessica's corpse. There she lay, unmoving. Sam had his vision back, but this was definitely not what he wanting to be seeing. "J-Jess..." he was shaking with each sob. Suddenly, Jessica sat upright and stared him dead in the face. "Sam. This is your fault. You did this. You killed me!" she screeched._

With a loud cry, Sam woke up.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, swerving the Impala over a bit. "Sam, can you hear me?" His little brother jumped at the loud sound of Dean's voice. "Y-yeah." he answered. "I'm fine."

"Dude, that is the biggest lie I have ever heard. You were crying out in your sleep. What's going on Sam? Besides the obvious I mean."

"I don't want to talk about it." he snapped. "Just don't let me fall asleep again." Sam extended his arm and felt the Impala's dashboard until he grasped the volume knob. Soon, Creedence Clearwater Revival drowned out everything.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey man, we're here." Dean alerted Sam. "Just act natural. We're FBI agents. I'm Agent Oswald and you're Agent Abbott. Got it?"

Sam nodded, trying to process all the information that was just thrown at him. "How am I supposed to... you know."

"Right. Well, I'll guide you into the house and sit you down. You just ask questions and nod thoughtfully. Can you do that?" Dean inquired, trying not to appear worried.

"Yes, Dean." Sam said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road."

Sam heard the car door creak open, then slam shut. Soon, his door opened as well. Sam grasped his brother's heavily muscled arm and tried not to think about the fact that he and Dean probably looked like a married couple. They walked up to what Sam could only guess was a house. Dean knocked on the door.

"Hello, ma'am. I'm Agent Oswald and this is Agent Abbott. We're from the FBI, here to discuss the death of Lisa Thorton."

"I... I already talked to the police. Why do I have to-" a female voice began.

"Ma'am, I understand. It's still required to speak with the FBI due to the severity of the case." Dean told her, grabbed Sam's arm and leading him into the house.

"Um, sorry, is he alright?" the woman asked.

"He's fine." Dean said, a defensive tone in his voice. "Agent Abbott is blind."

As if this were his cue, Sam gave a little wave in the general direction of her voice. "Blind, not deaf, thanks."

She gasped. "Oh, right, sorry. Well, take a seat. Do you boys want some coffee?"

"That'd be just fine, ma'am." Dean answered for both of them. The woman hustled into the kitchen.

"Hey, you okay?" Dean whispered in Sam's ear. He could feel his older brother's lips brushing against his earlobe.

"Dude, I'm fine. Stop asking me that!" Sam snapped as quietly as he could. Soon, he could hear the woman returning. Dean murmured a "thank you" and grabbed his brother's hand. He slipped the cup into it carefully. With an elbow from Dean, Sam began the questioning.

"Ma'am, what was your relation to Miss Thorton?"

"She was m-my sister." the woman's voice shook.

"Alright. In the days before she died, did you notice anything strange? Weird behaviours, appearances, mutterings?"

"Mutterings?" the lady said, confused.

"What Agent Abbott is trying to say is, did your sister speak in an unusual way in the days leading up to her death?"

"No... she was the same as ever. Bright, ever so happy..." she trailed off.

"What about other people," Sam continued. "Did your sister have any enemies?"

"No, no, she was a loveable person. Well off in the world too. She was a very wealthy girl, thanks to our father's money. We inherited half and half, of course, but now..." she took a deep breath. "It's all left with me. And I would trade all of it if I could just have L-L-Lisa back." the woman was obviously crying. Sam could hear her irregular breathing.

"And the worst part i-is," she continued, "our cousin, Louisiana, had just visited two days before. Can you i-imagine? N-now she had to come back down for the f-f-funeral." she hiccuped. The sound of a tissue box sliding across the table was evident.

"Well, we're sorry for your loss Miss Thorton." Dean concluded dismissively.

"Please. Call me Janie." she honked into a tissue.

"Janie. We'll be in touch." Sam nodded in a general direction. He stood up and Dean led him out the door. Once they were both seated in the Impala, Sam spoke.

"So, do you think it could be a haunting?"

"I dunno yet. I'm really not too sure about the actual death. I don't know the details. Could be just a medical mystery, you know." Dean chuckled. Sam heard the car shift gears. "Let's just hit a motel and we'll wait a couple days, maybe ask around, see if anyone else knows anything."

They pulled out of the lady's driveway and left.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Hey! Just a little side note, Bobby will appear in some later chapters if that's okay :) Same with John! And I apologise for the very short chapter... Now off you go. Read!

**CHAPTER SIX**

"Rise 'n shine, Sammy!" Dean put on a smiling face for his little brother, even though he couldn't see it. Sam groaned in response. "C'mon, up and at 'em! We gotta lot of work to do today." Dean strolled over to his brother's side of the bed and helped him to his feet.

"I'm gonna go get my jacket. I put your clothes on your bed. Can you-"

"Yeah." Sam interrupted quickly, face turning red. Dean noticed. "Well, alright, I'm gonna give Dad a call as well, see what he's up too. Be right back."

Dean walked into the room and grabbed his jacket and mobile. He punched in his father's digits. "Dad? Hey, where are you?"

"I'm on a case in New Orleans. I can't decide if it's a haunting or some voodoo chick gone crazy."

"That's great, Dad. Listen, how are we going to get Sam's sight back? I mean, it has to return right? There's gotta be some way..."

"Dean. Listen here. I want Sammy's sight back just as much as he does, but we can't risk anything right now. We were so close to that damn demon."

"Forget about the friggin' demon!" Dean shouted into the phone. "Sam's blind."

"This is the same thing that killed your mother, that killed Sam's girlfriend. Think about that." John Winchester hung up the phone. Sam stumbled out of the bedroom, clutching the wall. Automatically, his brother was there to guide him. They sat on the couch together.

"Your uh... sweatshirt is on backwards." Dean pointed out.

"Shit!" Sam suddenly yelled, fed up. "This freakin' sucks!" he threw his hands up in the hair.

Dean placed his hands on Sam's shoulders. "Deep breath, I know. It's hard. It will be for awhile. I'm here for you though, I'll always be here. You got that?" he carefully lifted the sweatshirt over his brother's head an adjusted it.

Sam sniffled. "Yeah." his finger trailed along the underside of his nose and he sniffed again. "I'm fine." He let his hand guide him to the television remote and switched it on.

"Local woman Janie Thorton was found dead in her home just this morning. Officials say she was found in her bathroom surrounded by her own hair. Medical examiners are still baffled by this fact, seeing as though it appears to have just fallen out. Whether or not this was the cause of her death is still to be determined."

"Well, crap." Sam muttered. "Guess we've got to put on our monkey suits again."

"Guess so." Dean sighed, leaving to the room to collect their Blues Brothers outfits.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Sorry, my fellow readers. I'm been smothered with biology shit so I haven't had time to write, really. But here's the next, REALLYSHORTSORRY chapter. If you have any specific requests for upcoming chapters, hit me up and say so! Thanks, R&R :)

"Hi, we're from the FBI." Dean introduced, flashing his badge and Sam's like a pro. "I'm Agent Oswald and he's Agent Abbott."

"And yes; I'm blind." Sam added. He hated when people stared at him. Although he couldn't see them, he could feel them looking at him and it was the worst feeling one could imagine.

"Oh, okay." a stout policeman responded. Sam tilted his head to hear him better.

"So, uh, what exactly happened here?" Dean inquired. The other man sighed. "Woman died in her home. Doesn't look like foul-play, considering she appears to be fine... save for her hair."

"Her hair?"

"Yeah. You boys go take a peek."

Sam felt Dean's warm touch on his back, leading him into the house. "C'mon. Let's check this check out."

They walked into the building, Dean's arm around Sam's middle back. Another cop stopped them at the top of the stairs. He leaned in Sam's face, close enough that the Winchester could smell the coffee he had drank earlier. He grimaced.

"FBI." Dean barked roughly. "Outta our way." Sam was pulled through a doorway. "Um, can we have some privacy?"

"Jesus." his older brother murmured immediately after the door closed. He began to describe the scene for Sam. "Alright, so that lady, Janie? Corpse looks normal, but she's a little paler than she was yesterday."

Sam laughed dryly. "Not funny."

"Uh, okay, so she's like, completely bald. I don't see any blood..." Dean trailed off and Sam could hear him opening cabinets and closing them. "Aha!" he yelled triumphantly. He suddenly grabbed his brother's hand and slipped something into it. Sam picked up the item, tangibly investigating. "What the hell?"

It was definitely cloth, that he knew for sure. The thing was a pouch. His fingers ran up and down the smooth drawstrings. "Wait, is this a-"

"Hex bag. Yeah. Miss Janie here was witched to death. God, freakin' witches..."

"Might want to keep in down, Oswald." Sam reminded him, slipping the bag into his pants pocket. "Lets go home. I'm tired." Sam didn't want to bitch about how exhausted he was, but he was sleepy enough to mention it.

"Alright." Dean said simply, looping his arm through Sam's.

Before Dean had even put the Impala in reverse, Sam was already asleep, head back, mouth open. He let out a thunderous snore. "I am not carrying you into the motel." Dean muttered, backing out of the victim's driveway.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Thank you all for reviewing! I cannot tell you how amazed I was to find that so many people commented. This one's short too, so I guess I'll have to stop telling y'all that. I guess they'll all be concise chapters? And also, sorry, if Bobby comes in, it'll be later. John... probably later too! Apologies :) R&R

"So," Dean began speaking, "how do you think these two vics are related?"

The gentle _slurrrrrp_ of liquid would be Dean drinking his morning coffee (black of course) and probably grimacing at the taste of the stuff. The soft thudding sound followed by a shuffling under the table was him setting down his cup of joe and adjusting his foot position. Sam was getting better at this "blind" thing. Today, he could feel the warm heat of sunshine on his cheek and he was feeling confident.

"Yeah, I do have a lead. Or somewhat of one." Sam paused. "I think it's that girl, the cousin. What was her name? Lindsey? Leigh? Uh..."

"Louisiana?" Dean offered helpfully. His brother snapped his fingers. "Yeah! Her. I mean, she was next in line to inherit Janie's wealth, right? Well, there's your motive." Sam leaned back in his chair, pleased with himself.

"Alright, Sherlock. So how did you figure-"

"Since Lisa had mentioned Louisiana had been there visiting just days before, it all makes so much sense. She'd have had lots of time to brew something up, slip it under that cabinet." Sam drummed his fingers on the table. "How the hell are we gonna track her down?"

_Sllurrrp_. Dean sipped at his coffee. "I guess we'll have to do some research, ask around. Maybe even go to Lisa's funeral. Louisiana would have to be there, you know? If she's gonna play off this whole "Oh, my poor cousin just died boo hoo" scenario, you'd think she'd be there."

"Go to the funeral? That's even an option? What with me being blind? And those relatives, they aren't going to remember Lisa having two friends, one of them with a... disability." he chose his words carefully, even though he was referring to himself.

"Sam. It's not a friggin' disability. You're normal as any other person that's gonna be there, besides the fact that we both hunt monsters and demons for kicks. So yeah, I'd say it's actually our best option. If you're up for it. I could always go by myself, you know."

Sam considered this and tilted his head. "Yeah, that sounds okay."

"Great, so at the funeral, we'll both pose as like her close friends from high school? Maybe like her online friends that came to meet her or something? Or-"

"No, Dean. When I said it sounded okay, I meant you going by yourself. Alone. And me staying here."

Dean exhaled loudly. "Sam..." he started.

"No. I'm fine with it. Really. You'll just have to tell me how it goes. I can't see it anyway. What's the point?"

"The goddamn point is that you need to be there, physically present, with me. We're hunting together."

"But we're not blind together. Trust me Dean, you go. It'll be fine." Sam assured him, reaching out and finding Dean's hand. He swiftly patted it and slid back his chair.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I've been feeling sort of guilty for the real short chapters, so here's an extra long one! I hope you guys enjoy! Keep reading and review (if you want of course). Thanks! ~VW

CHAPTER NINE

Dean Winchester eased out of his '67 Chevy Impala. He had called his good friend, Bobby Singer, a couple hours ago. Since he was just a couple miles away, Bobby had decided to crash the funeral with Dean. Therefore, Dean leaned on his car and waited. And waited.

"Howdy, stranger." a gruff voice spoke up. Dean turned. "Bobby?"

The old man rolled his eyes. "No, your Aunt Sue."

"Alright, anyway, let's just see if she's here. Sam's at home-"

"Why? He sick or something?" Bobby asked. Dean forced a laugh. "Nah. He hasn't caught a cold since like, the third grade? No, I can't believe my dad didn't call you." he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Sam's blind, Bobby. He gave up his... his sight for Dad. It was a demon deal."

"He what?" Bobby practically spit the words, making Dean cringe.

"Yeah, uh... he made me go by myself. Didn't want to ruin the funeral vibe, I guess? I told him-"

"Ya told him what exactly? That it was okay to stay home alone? He's vulnerable right now, Dean! Ya idjit."

"I know, I know Bobby. I'm sorry." Dean muttered. Bobby was beginning to sound just like his dad.

"Well, where is John? Is he drivin' over here?"

"No, he... he said he's on a hunt."

"On a hunt?!" Bobby roared, most likely louder than he anticipated. Some people who were mulling around stopped to look at them. "God, I can't believe this. Let's find this stupid girl and get outta here." Bobby turned on his heel and tapped a young couple on the shoulder.

"Pardon," he said politely, "but do you know where Louisiana is? Lisa's cousin? We're friends of hers and we can't seem to find her anywhere."

The couple looked at each other, then smiled sympathetically. "The poor dear is dreadfully ill. Couldn't make it. I heard it was pneumonia."

Dean clenched his teeth. "That's too bad." he grabbed Bobby's arm and dragged him over to the car. "Bobby, she was perfectly fine yesterday. When we were leaving Lisa's house, I saw a blonde lady walking up the drive. It could've been her. I didn't really think about it..."

"Do you ever think?! Where do ya s'ppose she might be right now?"

"Sam! Oh, God." Dean's face paled. Bobby felt bad for snapping at the poor kid. "Get in Dean, I'll drive." he ordered a little less harshly.

Sam sank deeper into the cheap couch, getting comfortable. This was what boredom felt like and he was experiencing the full impact of it. Sam sighed. His mouth erupted into an enormous yawn and he felt his eyelids droop. He was wearing Dean's headphones and listening to his iPod. Suddenly, the headphone cord unplugged itself from the music device and began snaking around Sam's neck. He cried out once, grabbed at them. He choked and spluttered. "Hello, Sam." a cool voice greeted him. He turned towards the feminine voice. "Who are you?" he gasped for breath. "I am," the girl paused for effect, "Louisiana the Lonely."

"L-Louisiana." Sam struggled to get out the words. "Why are y-y-you doing th-this?" Running out of time, his face began to turn blue. Sam suddenly felt very hot and couldn't hear anything. Then, he passed out.

"Sweet dreams, Sammy." Louisiana whispered, stroking his hair back as the cord fell lifeless to the floor.

When Sam came to, he was tied to a chair. "Good morning, sunshine! The earth says hello!" Louisiana exclaimed sarcastically.

"Why are you doing this? How do you know me?" Sam said weakly. He felt as if all the energy had been drained from his body.

"One. I'm doing this because I can. Two. C'mon, everyone knows the Winchesters. Demons, hunters, angels, even us witches." she told him.

"My... my brother will hunt you down!" Sam yelled in a general direction.

"I'm over here, sweetie." she grabbed his head and turned it in the right direction. "It's really terrible to lose something that means so much to you. I guess this is how Dean will feel when he discovers his brother's corpse."

"_Fidelis veluti lupus, caecus sicut vespertilio, protervi sicut alica studeo ad dolos, sit hoc Wintoniensis sentire ira mea._" Louisiana shrieked in Latin. Sam's body seized and began violently convulsing. Both Sam and the chair fell backwards and it splintered to pieces. Still roped, he twitched and jerked, unable to control his body. He was virtually unconscious. Blood trickled from his mouth and he was sweating something awful. Louisiana cackled and swiftly kicked the young man in the ribs.

The motel room door was abruptly kicked open. "You bitch!" Dean thundered, storming in. "Reverse this shit!"

Sam lurched and shuddered, swimming in a pool of his own blood. Dean was terrified, but his face didn't falter.

"No can do, honey." she smirked. "The Winchesters have to die."

Caught in a blind rage, Dean lunged at her. She held up her palm and recited, "_Inepta mortalis, dolis sunt pro haedos_."

****Immediately, Dean froze and crumpled to the floor like a broken China doll. Just as Dean fell, Bobby threw a dagger directly at the witch's face. It launched itself directly in her stomach. She gasped, as if surprised. Louisiana stared at the knife in her gut. A ruby flower blossomed around her shirt. "Where... did you c-come fr-from?" she croaked. Bobby sauntered up, gripped the weapon tight and twisted it viciously. "I came from hell, sweetheart." he told her sassily. "Where I supposed you'll be going next. Have fun!" With a final twist of the knife, the witch's last breath left her.

And to Bobby's relief, both Sam and Dean stopped seizing and began breathing again.


End file.
